Fix You (Sequel to The Arts)

Chapter 20

Camila's POV

A few papers from my desk fly off and onto the ground beside me. The carpet now getting stained with tears, I continue to rock back and forth, covering my ears in attempt to achieve a moment of silence.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," I mumble to myself.

All I hear is the mockery of my own mom's voice. The sound of it just sends me to tears because I know I'll never get to hear it again. Only in these grotesque episodes.

Then came the yelling.

All of which came faint in my ears. In my mind. It sounds like it's coming from down an echoing hallway.

Fuck.

I bring a hand over my mouth to choke a sob and let the other make itself into a fist to beat against the floor over and over again.

Desperately, I try opening my drawer with a very unsteady hand.

It was doing better now. After the car accident and me unravelling it a few times, it's finally healed.

I wish I could say the same for myself.

My hand manages to find the bottle of pills I kept in my desk. Shakily, I go to open the pills but stop midway.

You already took some before your shift.

Were you really taking these pills just to calm yourself down...?

"Shut up," I plead under my breath, trying to reason with these incapable thoughts.

Eyeing the bottle one last time, I groan before letting it drop and kicking it away.

I let my back find the desk and bring my knees to my chest. With my hands on either side of my head, I try to collect myself.

"Just breathe, mija," I hear the familiar Hispanic accent come close in ear shot. Though when I look up and around, no ones there.

Just in my head.

But it's the only voice I want to listen to, so I do.

"Breathe in and out," my mom's voice sounds in my head. "Just like we practiced before."

The same voice who was talking me down on the kitchen floor months ago.

The only sounds present in the room were my slow but gradually steady breathing and the ticking clock.

After a while, I find myself gaining a little feeling in my legs, and the physical numbness I feel washes over.

Carefully, I place my hand on the edge of the desk and pull myself up. I get a head rush almost immediately but it subsides just as fast as it came.

I wipe my hands over my eyes and grab my glasses from where I left them on the desk.

I look down to the scattered papers on the floor and grow angry with myself for causing such a mess.

I pick everything up quickly and glance at the time.

Ten minutes down the fucking drain for my stupid self.

"Stop," I mumble to myself again and find my phone on the desk when I sit down.

I scroll through my music and find the playlist Zayn made forbme to use whenever I couldn't stop thinking and just needed to calm down.

I press shuffle and Hericane by LANY lowly comes through my phone speakers.

Taking one more deep breath, I bring my hands over the keyboard of my computer and continue editing the draft Mr. Hemlock advised me to look over.